Sub-Atomic
by Fiorenza-a
Summary: Another flaming stake out.


Another flaming stake out.

Another flaming four hours of staring at grubby net curtains with only George Ruddy Cowley having any idea why. Four flaming hours of Doyle's views on stake outs. Four flaming hours of Doyle's views on Cowley. Of Doyle's views on the Met, the weather, Cheryl, whoever Cheryl was, on bacon sandwiches, on bacon sandwiches with butter, on bacon sandwiches without butter...oh yeah Cheryl, the bird at the hairdressers...even Doyle couldn't have mucked that up already, could he?...Doyle's views on corduroy, Doyle's views on Natasha...just because she'd knocked him back...had taste did 'Tasha, among other attributes...Doyle's views on any bird they'd ever met, on meeting birds, on not meeting birds, on birds in general, on birds in particular...one track mind had Doyle, especially when he wasn't getting any. Must have mucked up Cheryl then.

Still droning on...no not droning...angry now...better tune into this...there'll probably be questions later.

''School kids Bodie, bloody school kids, what's the point? It's a waste of bloody time, we take down someone like Howlett and he gets replaced by some toerag targeting school kids, you tell me, what's the point? What good did we do? What good do we ever do? I was more use on the beat.''

''Give it a rest Ray, we do what we can. It's better than doing nothing.''

''Is it Bodie? Is it? Because I can't tell anymore.''

''You know it is, or you wouldn't still be doing it.''

''Yeah, well maybe I don't want to do it anymore, maybe I want to get out. Have a decent life, be able to look meself in the mirror without being afraid of what I'll see.''

''Look Ray, you want to quit, quit, you want to stay, stay, but shut up about it can't you? Me ears are beginning to bleed.''

''Talk to 'Tasha like that do you?''

''And back we go again, look Doyle it's not my fault she thought you were too serious. You're the one who spent all night muttering into his pint about Howlett and then took an early bath just as things were getting interesting. I could still ring Phoebe, poor deranged girl actually got off on it, apparently she thought all that brooding made you look Byronesque.''

''Mad, bad and dangerous to know? Yeah that'd be about right.''

''Oh for...Look Doyle, have a bleedin' heart, can't you mate? We've got another four hours of this, try sunny side up, just for a change.''

''Want some more tea?''

''What?''

''Simply enough question, do you want some more tea or don't you?''

''Doyle, it's cats and dogs out there, wait 'til it eases up a bit.''

''Do you want some more tea or don't you?''

''Fine, on your own head be it, I'm not explaining to Cowley how you got pneumonia in May. Piss off and get some more tea if that's what you want, I'm tired of arguing with you. To be frank mate, the way you've been lately, I'm tired of doing anything with you. Why don't you find some other mug to take it out on?''

''Well maybe I will, you're no prize yourself sunshine'' Doyle banged out of the car, rocking it with the force of the door slamming shut.

Bodie winced, a few more of those and the door'd need work. _Again_. Between that and the damage he did to the upholstery, Doyle was a bloody hazard to motoring.

Maybe it was time they called it a day, four years of sniping at each other across the barricades was probably enough. No idea why he'd stuck it this long. Doyle was a charmless git at the best of times, at the worst of times he was just a git.

No, at the worst of times he'd been a bloody mess among shattered milk bottles. On the floor, almost more terrified than Bodie, unable to move, barely able to breathe, but more than able to bleed. More than able to do that. At the worst of times his heart had become a butterfly, fluttering on the edge of disaster. At the worst of times he'd almost been lost to his fears. At the worst of times he'd almost not come back.

A sudden blast of cold air and splattering of freezing rain drops announced the return of the git. A plastic lidded polystyrene cup, inadequately swaddled in a paper napkin, was unceremoniously thrust under Bodie's nose accompanied by ''I'm not the one given to pyrexia mate.''

''Who?''

''Look it up, and when you do, remember you'd better not even dare think about doing it again.''

''Is there any sugar in this?''

''Two and there's an extra sachet in me pocket if you want it.''

''You carrying sugar for me Doyle?''

''That's me, bringer of sweetness and light.''

''You feeling alright?''

''No, of course I'm not bloody well feeling alright. I'm stuck freezing me best assets off on a stake out with you when I should be with Cheryl putting 'em to better use. Last I'll see of her.''

''Thought so.''

''What?''

''Cheryl. Never mind mate, you've still got me.''

Doyle scowled and raised his own polystyrene cup to meet Bodie's in a not entirely ironic toast.

Bodie settled back into his seat to resume peering through the fogged windscreen at the grubby net curtains. Doyle shoved his feet up on the dash and slurped noisily at his tea, fishing the spare sachet of sugar from his jacket pocket and skimming it along the condensation dampened vinyl towards Bodie. ''Never say I don't get you anything.''

''You don't get me anything.''

''I'm playing hard to get.''

''With that hair?''

''Cheryl liked me hair.''

''No accounting for birds, one of 'em told me she had a thing for Cowley. Commanding older men apparently.''

''You're kidding?''

''Wish I was, told me all about this fantasy she had with him in a kilt. Put me right off me game.''

''Did you tell him?''

''What? Permission to tell you me lastest bird wants to do unspeakable things to you in a kilt sir?''

''Yeah, could get nasty that.''

''Gonna quit?'' asked Bodie, tone light, breath held.

''Maybe, someday. If I don't go out feet first.'' Barely a skipped beat before ''You?''

''Every medical mate'' Bodie took up breathing again. ''If I'm gonna be pawed like that, prefer a bird to do it.''

Doyle's own stilled lungs reflated. ''New doctor is a bird. Twenties. Welsh. All raven hair and coal black eyes according to Murphy.''

''Medical's in a fortnight.''

''Mine's next week.''

''Yeah, but you're at a natural disadvantage.''

''What natural disadvantage?''

''You're not me.''

''Four years I've put up with this'' announced Doyle morosely. ''Wish someone'd tell me why.''

''No one else'd have you mate. Foul tempered stick insect like you.''

''Don't you think it's getting a bit crowded in here?''

''Eh?''

''You, me and your flaming ego mate. Head that size, must be why you never wear a hat.''

''Nah, just don't want to hide me beautiful face. You, on the other hand, should seriously consider wearing a balaclava. Backwards. In the public interest sunshine. I've seen better mugs at the zoo.''

''Don't ever do it again Bodie.''

''Huh?''

''I was thinking when I was getting the tea. What it'd be like, you know, on me own. Don't ever do it again.''

''Long as you stay away from almond eyes, we've got a deal.''

Doyle settled back against his seat and shut his eyes. ''Four hours, it's not so long if you think about it. Plenty of ways to pass the time...I spy...''

Bodie rolled his eyes, let his forehead fall against the steering wheel and groaned.

Without opening his own, Doyle smiled ''...with my little eye...''

END


End file.
